


It's Okay to Cry When You're Angry

by SummerStormFlower



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Anger, Brotherly Love, Comfort, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Older Sibling Huey Duck, Protective Louie Duck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22443352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerStormFlower/pseuds/SummerStormFlower
Summary: Dewey's always dreamed of having a real mom. So why is it so hard for him to smile when Della's around? He thought he wasn't angry. So why does his chest constrict and make him want to scream?
Relationships: Della Duck & Dewey Duck, Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck
Comments: 16
Kudos: 107





	It's Okay to Cry When You're Angry

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request! (I sang that in my head). Anyways, sure hope I did this justice!

Dewey isn't sure how it happened. It started with the stove. He knows that much. Out of habit, he'd woken up earlier than everyone else. Della was looking after them, as the other adults had gone out to do... something. They'd told them, but Dewey had forgot. Since he was already up, he figured he'd make breakfast. It wasn't rare for one of the triplets to make breakfast in the morning when Uncle Donald was working, or had slept in when they lived on the houseboat. Most of the time, it'd been Huey, but Dewey had had his share of cooking too. As a result, they'd more or less gotten good at it.

As it turns out, Della is an early riser too. She walks into the kitchen, stretching and yawning, freezing abruptly when she sees her son in front of the stove.

"Good morning, Mom!" Dewey says cheerfully, happy to see his mom who'd been absent from his life for ten whole years. Her being here and alive still felt like a miracle each and every day.

"Dewford, what are you doing with the stove?" Della asks with wide, panicked eyes.

Dewey blinks. "Oh right!" he says, realization dawning on him. Della doesn't know he can make omelettes. Of course she doesn't know. She wasn't there on the houseboat with them and Uncle Donald. Dewey shakes himself out of his thoughts, surprised by the sudden bitterness in his chest. He brushes it off. "Don't worry, Mom, I know how to use the stove," he reassures.

"You can't even reach it," Della says.

Dewey's on his tiptoes, but he's otherwise fine. "I'm good. Relax, Mom," he says, unable to understand why this is such a problem.

Della starts to approach and Dewey sees she's about to turn the stove off. "You're going to burn yourself-"

"I'm FINE, Mom!" he shouts suddenly, whipping around to glare heatedly at her.

Della stumbles back, startled and a little hurt. "I-I'm just trying to help-"

"YOU NOT LEAVING US WOULD'VE HELPED!"

Dewey gasps at the same time that Della does. He stares weakly at his mom's hurt face, at the pain in her glossy eyes. He can't believe he just said that. Guilty and afraid, Dewey hastily turns off the stove and runs out of the kitchen, ignoring Della's call. 

He can't believe he just said that.

* * *

When he gets to his room, Dewey doesn't bother climbing up to his bunk in the middle. He jumps into Louie's bed, landing on his legs and instantly waking him up. 

"Ow! What the heck!" Louie shoots up, a glare on his face. 

Dewey buries his head in the mattress, shaking.

Louie's face softens. "Hey, what's wrong, Dew?"

Dewey inhales painfully, his tears wetting the blankets, and he shakes his head.

There's the sound of rustling sheets above them. Then Huey is climbing down the ladder, concerned eyes on Dewey. "What happened?" 

"I-I-I," Dewey stutters, sobbing. Louie puts a hand on his shoulder, followed by Huey's hand on his back. "I yelled at Mom," he sniffles. He sees the hurt look on her expression behind his eyelids. He's never felt so awful before. Why had he said that? He hurt her. Now she hates him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"What?" Huey asks, confused.

"Why? What did she do to you?" Louie demands, a fiery fierceness in his voice. Although he and their mother had sorted some things out, they're still a long way from having a close relationship. If she's the reason his brother is crying, Louie swears to Olympus, he'd make her pay tenfold. Her words, 'If you want to be apart of this family', still stings - if she'd been apart of their childhood, she would've known about his struggles with self-esteem and that he didn't need her to make it even worse. If she'd said anything like that to Dewey, Louie WOULD make her PAY. It didn't matter that she was his mom, she was his mom that hadn't raised them. Dewey was his brother who'd always stood by his side.

"No," Dewey shakes his head, wiping at his eyes, "She didn't do anything. I-I just got mad." Because he couldn't just smile, like he always can and does, he'd ruined his chances at ever having a real bond with his mom. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just be happy his mom is alive?! He's always dreamed of having her back in his life. So why had he gotten so angry?

"Don't defend her, Dewey!" Louie shakes his shoulder, "If she hurt you, dammit-!"

"Calm down," Huey says, ever the levelheaded one. "Why did you get mad, Dewey?"

Dewey wipes his beak on his sleeve. "It's stupid."

"If it was stupid, you wouldn't be crying," Huey says.

Dewey sniffs. "She was worried about me using the stove. And I just screamed at her. I got so, so mad for no reason, and now I've hurt her feelings, and now she hates me."

Louie's nostrils flare and he looks at Huey. Huey gives him a stern look and shakes his head. Louie crosses his arms, scowling at the floor.

"First of all," Huey starts, rubbing Dewey's back soothingly, "Mom doesn't hate you. She's not like that.

Hesitantly, Dewey glances up at Huey. "Really?"

"Really." Huey nods. "Second, I think you did have a reason for getting mad at her.”

“No,” Dewey says, “She didn’t do anything wrong. She just didn’t want me to burn myself.”

“Not about the stove,” Huey says, “About her being gone our whole lives.”

Dewey opens his beak to rebuff Huey, but finds he can’t say anything. He blinks.

“You’ve been bottling up your anger, Dewey. So it came bursting out when you least expected it,” Huey explains.

Dewey doesn’t want it to be true, but... He shakes his head. “She didn't mean to leave us for that long,” he says, but his voice sounds weak even to his own ears.

“No, she didn’t,” Huey agreed, “but you’re allowed to be angry with her.”

Tears prick at Dewey’s eyes again. “But I love her.”

“I know. You’re still allowed to be angry.”

Dewey starts crying again and dives into Huey’s arms. Louie rubs his shoulder comfortingly. It makes the pain in his chest a little more bearable.

“It’s okay,” Huey says, “It hurts and that’s okay. You need to give it time to heal.”

“How does it heal?” Dewey asks, rubbing his eyes.

“By talking about your feelings. Not bottling them up,” Huey answers.

Dewey sits up, sighing. “Are you saying I should talk to Mom?”

Huey nods.

“But... what if I hurt her?”

“You won’t,” Huey reassures, “In fact, talking will just bring you two closer.”

Dewey nods, smiling at the idea. “I wanna be close with her.”

Huey smiles back. “We all do.”

Dewey wipes the remainder of his tears, then stands up with a determined look on his face. “I’m gonna go talk to her now. About everything. No more bottled up anything.”

Louie smiles, happy his brother is feeling better now. He still kinda wants to go give Della a piece of his mind, but he won’t for Dewey’s sake.

“Thanks guys,” Dewey tells them gratefully.

“No problem,” Huey says.

Then Dewey leaves.

Louie looks at Huey uncertainly.

“Don’t worry,” Huey wraps an arm around him, “It’ll work out.”

* * *

“You should talk to her too, you know,” Huey says. He’s doing homework on Louie’s bed, while Louie’s leaning on his back, playing on his phone. It’s been well over two hours and Dewey hasn’t come back. Which isn’t too surprising. Dewey can talk for a very, very long time, and knowing him, he’ll probably try to fix things in one morning. When he got back, Huey would, of course, tell him those kinds of things take time.

“We have talked,” Louie says.

“About when she grounded you, I mean.”

Huey feels Louie stiffen.

“No thanks.”

“It’ll never get better unless you tell her.”

“Maybe I don’t care.”

“That’s not true.”

“You don’t know that. I still don’t trust her.”

Huey looks over his shoulder at Louie. “I’ve told you, Lou, Mom is—“

“Well you have a tendency to trust too much. It’s why you get taken advantage of.”

Louie feels Huey flinch at his accidentally harsh words. “Sorry,” he says guiltily, “I just... am still adjusting, okay?”

Huey’s quiet for a moment. Then he says, “Okay.” He reaches back and pats Louie’s leg. “I hope you eventually come around though.”

**Author's Note:**

> The End :).  
> That was a little more anti-climatic than I had planned. I was planning to end it with Dewey and Della’s chat, but I don’t feel confident enough to write Della yet. She’s my polar opposite and it’s hard to get into her head.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
